


Expansions

by Amuly



Series: 42 Recreational Uses for a Stopwatch [2]
Category: Torchwood
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-02
Updated: 2010-05-15
Packaged: 2017-11-03 23:21:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/387112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amuly/pseuds/Amuly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Ianto finds some special leather straps in the archives, and devises a way to test them on Jack. PWP.</p>
          </blockquote>





	1. Archive Hunting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ianto finds some special leather straps in the archives, and devises a way to test them on Jack. PWP.

Ianto grinned as he waited. He was taking a risk with his selection of archive item for Jack to retrieve, but it would be worth it. Besides, it seemed like his risk had paid off: Jack only had a minute left to return to him with the item in hand, otherwise Ianto won. And since the sound of Jack’s footsteps was not reaching his ears, he was fairly certain of his victory.

One minute later, Ianto slipped the stopwatch into his pocket triumphantly. He had won the bet, and Jack was his prize. Now, to retrieve the item that Jack was _supposed_ to have found himself, and then find Jack.

_ That Morning: _

“Jack?”

“Mm. Yeah, Ianto?”

Ianto closed his eyes and sighed happily as Jack reached up and stroked a hand through his hair. Content, he pressed his face further into Jack’s neck, breathing his pheromones in deep. In Ianto’s personal opinion, morning sex was the second best sex with Jack: it was lazy, and warm, and whenever they had it they always had time to lie around for a few minutes before they had to get up and start their day. 

“I have an idea for a game. With the stopwatch.”

“My favorite kind of game.”

Ianto smiled into Jack’s neck. “Well, you might not like it.”

Ianto felt Jack shift above him, but it was only to throw a leg over Ianto’s. “What is it?”

“Archive scavenger hunt.”

“Archive scavenger hunt?”

“Yes.” He waited a moment, practically feeling Jack weighing the pros and cons in his mind. 

“So, what, I pick something for you to find, you pick something for me to find, and we time it to see who can find their item fastest?”

“The gist of it, yes.” 

Beneath him, Jack pulled an arm free and wrapped it around Ianto. “And we bet our usual?” Jack’s hand had slipped slowly down Ianto’s back, before reaching his arse and squeezing emphatically. Ianto groaned, shifting in closer to Jack.

“Of course,” he murmured breathily. 

“Could be fun,” Jack mused, before drawing Ianto up into a deep kiss.

_ Present _ :

Ianto smiled to himself as he made his way expertly through the archives. Really, the whole archive scavenger hunt had been a ruse. His real motivation was much more sinister: he had discovered an item in the archives a few weeks back, and had been _dying_ to try it out on Jack. But, if he had just told Jack about it, he would have wanted to try it out on him. Just like when…

Ianto came to a stop in front of the archive drawer he had been looking for. He glanced down the surrounding aisles: Jack was nowhere to be seen. Pro: Ianto had decidedly won the bet. Con: He’d have to go hunting for a lost Jack, now. Ianto shook his head and sighed as he opened the drawer. Ah. There they were. Ianto pulled out two, seemingly innocuous, leather straps. The soft brown leather moved slightly under his touch, as if trying to curl around his skin. Carefully he rolled the straps up, then closed the drawer and started back out into the archives, hunting for Jack.

He had taken a risk, selecting the straps for Jack to locate. For one, they were labeled as a sex toy: a siren call for Jack. But, they were from the 1941 archives. Thing was, Jack was so busy during World War II (at last count, Ianto was fairly certain there were at least four Jack’s alive at the time, and at least two serving in the war), that Ianto was willing to bet that he had no idea what was going on in Torchwood at the time. As usual, Ianto appeared to be right.

Pulling out his PDA, Ianto flicked through it with his thumb, calling up the heat sensors in the archives. Ah, there he was. Ianto smiled. Jack was currently an entire level below him, and four rooms further back. Taking a sharp left, Ianto pushed open a door to the archive stairwell, and began hurrying after Jack.

A good five minutes later, and Ianto tucked his PDA back into his jacket pocket. He could hear Jack pacing and cursing. “Damn it, archive scavenger hunt. It’ll be fun. Five minute handicap…” As silently as he could, Ianto crept forward. “Oh for…Ianto? Ianto! I’m lost! Ianto? How do I get out of here?”

Ianto took that as his cue to step out from the shadows. He slipped a hand around Jack’s waist and leaned in close, lips brushing the shell of his ear. “Excellent job, sir. We’re far enough away from prying eyes for me to claim my prize, uninterrupted.”

Nimbly, Ianto began to undo Jack’s belt and slip his hand inside. A groan reverberated through Jack’s body and into Ianto’s. “Was the…plan…all along.”

“Of course it was, Jack.” Ianto turned and started sucking at Jack’s neck, as his hand continued to stroke his arousal steadily. Beneath him, Jack hummed happily. “Do you want to know what item you were supposed to retrieve?”

Ianto bit down gently on the juncture of Jack’s neck and collarbone, causing any response he might have been formulating to be lost, and turned into a groan. Gently Ianto lapped at the reddened flesh, kissing it softly before shifting to the other side of Jack’s neck. 

“Hm? Aren’t you curious, Jack?”

Again, Ianto bit down, except this time he accompanied the bite with a _twist_ of his wrist as he stroked Jack’s cock, swiping his thumb over the head to complete the movement. Again, Jack moaned. Precome began to leak out of him and onto Ianto’s fingers. He spread it out over Jack’s arousal, slicking it up for his hand.

“Why don’t I show you what you were supposed to retrieve?” With that, Ianto spun Jack around and pushed him backward, into the shelf behind him. Jack blinked, arousal getting in the way of any higher cognitive functions. “Lie down.”

A moment’s confused pause, then Jack’s eyes widened and he complied quickly. “What…what’s in your hand, Ianto?”

Ianto hefted the two rolled-up leather straps. “Oh, these?”

Jack nodded, licking his lips as he stared at the straps with dilated pupils. Ianto sank to the ground and covered Jack’s body with his own. “Just some leather straps. I thought I might test them out on my prize?”

Immediately Jack lifted his hands over his head, grabbing one wrist with the other hand. “Yes, yes, Ianto…”

Perfect. Ianto couldn’t suppress a grin at the sight before him: an overly-aroused Jack Harkness, exposed cock leaking precome and hips lifting suggestively. “First, get undressed.”

If there was one thing Jack was supremely good at, it was getting undressed. In a moment his clothes were thrown into a corner, and he was back to lying on the ground, hands clasped above his head. “Now, Ianto?”

Ianto stroked his chin, mock-considering. “Alright, Jack.” Leaning forward, Ianto unrolled the first leather strap and wrapped it around Jack’s wrists, binding them together over his head. Once in position, the strap automatically tightened and sealed itself together. 

            Beneath him, Jack frowned and felt at the strap with his fingertips. “What…”

            “Shh. Now for your ankles…” Ianto moved down to Jack’s ankles and did the same, wrapping the strap around them and binding them together. The strap fused to itself, just like the first one had. Satisfied, Ianto sat back on his heels and watched as Jack’s eyes narrowed.

            “Ianto, what are these?”

            “Leather straps, Jack. Isn’t it obvious?”

            Jack eyed Ianto suspiciously. “Well, where I’m from, leather doesn’t fuse to itself when wrapped around someone. What are these?”

            Filthy look firmly in place, Ianto crawled up Jack. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to Jack’s ear, as he whispered, “These straps are partly made from Hruvian vines. They don’t release until you orgasm.”

            Beneath him, Jack’s hips jerked up into him involuntarily. Ianto grinned as he pulled away. “So, now that they’re in place…” He sat back on his heels and observed Jack patiently. For a few seconds Jack fiddled with the straps, twisting his wrists and prying at them with his fingertips. Once he apparently came to the conclusion that they weren’t coming off, he turned his attention back to Ianto, who was eyeing his actions coolly.

            “Ianto…” Jack’s voice was breathy and lust-tinged. The _look_ he was giving Ianto – like he was stripping away his clothes and mentally fucking him – went straight to Ianto’s groin. Suddenly his trousers were too tight, and his collar too constricting. Ianto tugged off his jacket and tie, then paused. 

            “Jack,” Ianto eyed Jack carefully, “do you want me to fuck you?”

            Jack’s hips thrust uselessly into the air, and he nodded vigorously. “Yes, Ianto, please…”

            “Then undress me.” Ianto walked on his knees over to Jack, throwing a leg over him, straddling him. 

            Immediately Jack sat up, bringing his hands down to Ianto’s waistcoat. “Could have asked me to do this before you tied my wrists…” he grumbled.

            “Where’s the fun in that?” Ianto mumbled. He leaned in and kissed Jack, whose fingers paused in their task as he kissed back. Their tongues languidly stroked over each other, entering first Jack’s mouth, then Ianto’s. Jack pulled back and raised his arms up, over Ianto’s head. Ianto temporarily forgot about all his plans, and let Jack kiss him, bound arms wrapped around his back. He brought a hand up to the back of Jack’s head as the kiss deepened. Jack’s hips thrust lightly against Ianto’s, and both men gasped into the kiss. Ianto pulled away first, reluctantly. “Waistcoat.” He mumbled the word against Jack’s lips, eyes still closed. 

            Jack lifted his hands back up and brought them between them, fingers fumbling awkwardly with the buttons. He managed the three buttons, then pushed the waistcoat off Ianto’s shoulders one-by-one. Ianto grinned, not raising a hand to help Jack in his task. Next came his shirt buttons. Jack struggled with the smaller buttons, impatience obvious. Still, Ianto just watched, smiling happily. “Could help…”

            Ianto shook his head. “I won the bet, I decide the terms. Keep unbuttoning.”

            Jack grumbled, but complied. When the last of the buttons were finally undone, Jack pushed the shirt open, then leaned in and started sucking on one of Ianto’s nipples. Ianto groaned, reaching up a hand to thread through Jack’s hair. “Mm, Jack…wasn’t the plan…”

            “Don’t care.” Jack took the nipple between his teeth and rolled it, causing Ianto’s head to fall back in pleasure. Through a haze of lust, Ianto noticed Jack’s hands slipping down to his belt, fumbling to undo it while still bound together. He managed, just as he switched his attention to Ianto’s left nipple. Next came Ianto’s trouser buttons and zipper. As soon as he got those undone, Jack reached a hand in and wrapped it firmly around Ianto’s arousal. Ianto moaned and leaned forward, pressing his forehead to Jack’s shoulder. With his hands bound, Jack’s strokes were awkward, but the awkwardness just made it all the more arousing for Ianto. 

            “Ianto…” Jack’s lips touched the back of Ianto’s neck as he breathed his name. Ianto could only hum in response, too focused was he on the feel of Jack’s hands stroking him. “Ianto, I want you…” Ianto groaned. Oh, Jack was swiping his thumb over the head of his arousal. 

            With more willpower than Ianto thought he possessed, he urged Jack’s hands away and pushed him backward, until he was lying on the floor again. Jack obediently lifted his hands above his head, lifting his lips invitingly. “Ianto…”

            Ianto groaned. Damn Jack Harkness. He fumbled with his shoes and trousers, slipping them off hurriedly. Oh, lube, right, where did he…Ianto practically screamed in frustration as he scrambled in his trouser pockets for it. Finally his fingers wrapped around a small bottle, and he pulled it out triumphantly. “Sorry, couldn’t find…” He turned back to Jack, who was watching him with a small smile on his face. Ianto frowned. “Don’t look so amused, Jack. I could just leave you here.”

            Jack’s eyes widened in mock-concern. “Oh, you wouldn’t do that to me, would you, Ianto?”

            Ianto grumbled as he sidled into Jack’s lap. “I suppose not. But only because I plan on using you for my own devices.”

            Jack nodded as Ianto uncapped the lube and squeezed some onto his fingers. “Of course, that’s-” any witty retort on Jack’s part was cut off as Ianto slipped a single lubed finger inside him. Ianto watched his hands twitch above his head and start to move. 

            “No. Keep them up there.” Ianto nodded at Jack’s bound wrists. Jack groaned, but complied. 

            “Alright, but only if you – ah…” Ianto pushed another slicked-up finger inside of Jack, and scissored the two, stretching Jack around his fingers. Jack’s head fell to the side, breaths starting to come more quickly. Pushing a third finger in, Ianto concentrated on judging Jack’s readiness. One more quick scissor of his fingers, and Ianto pulled them out, leaving Jack whining and pressing his hips up into Ianto’s. 

            Hurriedly, Ianto squeezed some more lube into his palm and slicked himself up with it. He rolled off Jack’s lap, nodding at him. “Legs up.”

            Obediently Jack lifted his bound legs into the air. Ianto positioned himself in front of Jack’s entrance, and Jack lowered his legs, resting them on Ianto’s shoulders. Ianto placed a small kiss to the inside of Jack’s ankle, before turning to look down at him. “Okay?”

            “Ianto,” Jack grunted angrily, pressing his hips down toward Ianto. “Just come _on_.”

            “So impatient…” Ianto reproached, but moved forward. With one swift movement, he thrust himself inside Jack. The groans of both men filled the air, and Ianto took a moment to steady himself before pulling out and thrusting back in. Ianto’s hand scrambled for Jack’s hip, and they fell into a rhythm: Ianto thrusting into Jack, as Jack pushed his hips down onto Ianto. 

            After a minute Ianto couldn’t stand it anymore. He needed to kiss Jack: those beautiful lips - slightly parted, sweat beading the upper lip – were just _begging_ for it. He shifted, leaning forward. Jack followed his lead and brought his legs down to wrap around Ianto’s waist. Now lying flush on top of Jack, Ianto kissed him as he thrust. Their tongues mimicked the movement of their hips, and too soon Ianto had to break the kiss, gasping for air. 

            “Ianto, can I…” 

            Ianto nodded, pressing his forehead to Jack’s neck. Jack brought his bound arms down to Ianto’s back, misaligned fingers stroking over the sweaty flesh there. Ianto moaned, the ghosting feeling of those fingers over-stimulating him. “Jack, are you…”

            “Close,” Jack grunted out in confirmation. Ianto fumbled with his hands until he reached Jack’s waist, then heaved his hips up, angling his thrusts more carefully. Jack moaned, hips stuttering against Ianto’s. “There, there. Just…few more…” Two more thrusts, and Jack was clenching around Ianto, warm cum spurting out between their stomachs. Ianto groaned, redoubling his efforts. A moment later he came, thrusting into Jack’s warm heat. He went limp on top of Jack.

            As Ianto came back to himself, he groaned. He could feel their heartbeats pounding together in their chests, breaths both coming in short gasps. Ianto pulled out of Jack, then reached up and kissed him. Jack moaned happily into Ianto’s mouth, and ran his hands through Ianto’s hair. With a start, Ianto pulled back.

            “Oh, right,” he mumbled sheepishly. 

            Jack laughed, holding his free hands out in front of Ianto triumphantly. “Looks like they did what they were supposed to.”

            “Thank goodness. I wasn’t sure…”

            Jack laughed, nudging at Ianto to get off of him. Ianto complied, observing that Jack’s feet were unbound as well. “What would you have done if they hadn’t come off?”

            As he gathered up his clothes and started to put them on, Ianto smirked evilly. “Oh, I was hoping for that. Then I could drag you around on a leash all day, at my beck and call.”

            Next to him, Jack laughed and mock-shivered. “Oh, Ianto, you just hit on my secret dream: to be your sex slave for the rest of eternity.” 

            “You aren’t already?” Ianto arched an eyebrow as he buttoned his shirt. 

            Jack growled and grabbed Ianto, drawing him in for a smoldering kiss. “Mm, I’m going to have to teach you some manners. Next time we bet on something I can win.” 

            Laughing, Ianto pushed Jack away. “When you win you always want to bottom anyway.”

            Jack shrugged on his shirt as he laughed. “Well, with you as inventive and hardworking as you are, who wouldn’t want to just lie back and enjoy?”

            As Ianto rolled up the straps again and started back out of the archives, Jack in tow, he nodded. “Excellent point, sir.”


	2. Owen's a Tosser

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Expansion of #32 42 [RUfaS](http://amuly.livejournal.com/17665.html); Jack and Ianto mutilate a pig to play a prank on Owen. Set during series 1.

Jack wandered over to the autopsy bay, following the sound of Ianto’s voice. “What’s the species?”

“Human. Or, what’s left of one.” As Jack rounded the corner into the autopsy bay, Owen and Ianto came into view. Owen was in the pit, poking at some truly gruesome remains. Ianto was standing above him, making notes on a clipboard. 

“How can you tell?”

Owen nodded his head over toward one of the machines in the autopsy bay, both hands occupied with taking a tissue sample from the remains. “I took a DNA sample and ran it through the analyzer. Came back as human.”

Jack watched as Ianto continued to scribble down some notes. A small frown line creased his forehead. “Do you normally do that? Take DNA and run it through?”

Tissue sample successfully bagged, Owen had moved on to scraping something off of the remains’…skull? Leg? Some sort of chunk of bone. “No, not unless I’ve got a good reason. I could, but seems like a waste of time to do it when you know it’s human, or a Weevil, or whatever.”

Jack was watching Ianto’s expression carefully. It was just there for a split second, and only Jack would have noticed it: Ianto’s eyes narrowed, and his mouth twitched into a small grin. But then the expression was gone, replaced by a cool mask of indifference. Down in the pit, Owen glanced up at Ianto. “What, do you want me to add it into standard operating procedure? Because seriously, Ianto…”

“Oh, no, no.” Ianto shook his head, finishing off whatever he was writing on the clipboard. “Just making sure I knew what things were standard and not. You’re right: it’d be a waste of time to do that if we know the species.” There it was again. That little thoughtful smile. Jack was going to have to find out what was going on. “Alright, thanks Owen. That’s all I needed to know.”

Quickly Jack ducked back, hiding in his office as Ianto walked over to the coffee machine. Glancing over at Owen, who was still busy with the…pile of goo and bones…Jack snuck past the autopsy bay as quietly as he could, and over to Ianto. He was busy refilling the machine, measuring the beans and water carefully. Even though it was obvious Ianto knew he was there, Jack slipped behind him quietly and ghosted a hand over his waist. “Ianto…”

“Sir? I’m in the middle of something.” For all of Ianto’s façade of cool formality, Jack still noticed the slightly worried glance he shot in the direction of the Hub. Jack frowned. So Ianto was still worried about what the other members of Torchwood would think and say about them, if they knew that he and Jack were…Jack frowned again. Whatever they were. 

Squeezing Ianto’s waist teasingly, Jack pulled away from him, putting a reasonable amount of distance between them. He would worry about all that later. But now, he had some investigating to do. “What are you planning?”

“I…don’t know what you mean, sir.” Oh, that sly little Welshman. He was trying his best not to smile, but Jack could still see it, ghosting across his lips. Ianto snapped the machine closed and started it up, obviously trying to stay busy.

“Ianto…” Jack teased. “Tell me.”

Sighing, Ianto turned to Jack, glancing over his shoulder toward the autopsy bay. Apparently satisfied that they wouldn’t be overheard, Ianto lowered his voice and raised his eyebrows. “Well, I was thinking…”

“Yeah?”

Again, a glance toward the autopsy bay. “Owen doesn’t normally run a DNA scan, unless we’re uncertain about the species. So…” another glance, “I was thinking of getting my hands on something human-looking, mutilating it a bit, then telling Owen it’s a human. Wanted to see how long it would take him to figure it out.”

Jack shoved his hands in his pockets, considering. Like Ianto, he turned and glanced toward the autopsy bay before he spoke. “Do you really think that would work? Owen’s a good doctor, he’ll notice.”

Ianto shook his head. “Not if I get something close enough, and mutilate it just right. He shouldn’t notice until he’s inside and he realizes the organs are different. Even then, it might take him a while. Considering the sorts of things we see on this job.”

There was a lull in the conversation as Jack considered. He watched as Ianto pulled down on a lever of the coffee machine, and the machine began to hum. Jack had no idea how a coffee machine could be so complicated, but Ianto knew how to use it, and every batch he brewed was the best coffee Jack had ever tasted. “Alright. Alright. But, you realize that Owen will want to get revenge?”

Ianto turned from the machine, incredulous. “Revenge? _This_ is revenge for the time _Owen_ put Janet in the backseat of my car!”

“Oh, yeah…” Jack grinned at the memory. He still had that CCTV footage saved somewhere around here… “But wasn’t _that_ just Owen’s revenge for you-”

“Let’s not talk about that,” Ianto quickly cut off Jack. The two men shared a grin. Ianto’s expression grew serious again. “Jack, look…”

“No, that’s fine. So, how do you plan on doing it?”

A boyish grin crossed Ianto’s face. Jack forgot, sometimes, just how young Ianto was. He hid it beneath the suits and that calm politeness. “Really? You want to help?”

“Sure. Not like I’ve got anything better to do…” Jack eyed Ianto lasciviously.

A blush spread across Ianto’s face, and he ducked his head, fiddling with the coffee machine. He filled five cups of coffee, setting them out carefully as he mixed in cream and sugar according to each team member’s preference. He handed Jack his own mug: no sugar or cream. Jack dragged his fingertips across Ianto’s on purpose, grinning broadly as the flush on Ianto’s face spread to his ears and neck. 

“I’ll just…get the rest of the team their coffee, sir. We can discuss this tonight?”

“Yeah. Tonight.” Oh, Jack did love making Ianto blush. As Ianto moved to enter the main area of the Hub and distribute the coffee, Jack stood just a _little_ bit in the way, making him nudge him to get past. Jack grinned as he watched Ianto walk away, cute little bum moving beneath his trousers. For a moment, Jack stood there, hands in his pockets, staring. Then he shook himself and went back to work.

**

That night, Jack was shucking on his coat as Ianto helped him into it. “So, what’s the plan?” The rest of the team had long gone home, and Jack and Ianto had already gotten their own “work” done. Jack grinned at Ianto as he walked ahead of him, out of the Hub and into the Torchwood car park. 

“Well, my thoughts were that we would get ourselves a nice, human-looking corpse, then mutilate it up a bit. A pig, to be precise.”

“A pig?”

Ianto nodded, unlocking the SUV and sliding in. Jack slid in the opposite door. As they sped off down the darkened streets of Cardiff, Jack slipped a hand onto Ianto’s thigh. He didn’t acknowledge it, aside from a small quirk of his lips. He didn’t try to remove the hand, either. 

After about twenty minutes of driving Ianto pulled into a large warehouse. As they stepped out, Jack put a sleeve to his nose. “ _Uh!_ What is that _smell_?” He walked around the SUV to Ianto, who was waiting for him.

“It’s the pork factory. That smell comes from when they process the fat.”

Jack took his arm away from his nose, but continued to wrinkle it in disgust. “That’s terrible. Let’s get in and out quick.” Jack followed Ianto into the factory. 

Inside, the two men paused and looked around. They were in a large room, filled with conveyor belts and meat hooks on automated tracks. Jack let out a low whistle. “Reminds me of some of the kinkier pleasure dens in the Damisen cluster. Crazy…” Jack caught Ianto rolling his eyes as he decisively stepped forward.

“Anyway, sir, if you’re done reminiscing, you could help me lift this pig off the hook and haul it into the boot of the SUV.”

Jack mock-pouted, but stepped forward, grabbing the nearest hanging pig. “This one do?”

“Looks fine to me, sir.”

Jack wrapped his arms around the pig in a bear hug, then nodded his head at Ianto, indicating that he should do the same. Ianto positioned himself on the other side of the pig, opposite Jack, and wrapped his arms around, just below Jack’s. “Count of three?” Ianto nodded, cheek pressed against the corpse. “One, two, and…three!” The two men hauled the pig up. For a second, it remained stuck on the hook. Then it shifted slightly, and the pig abruptly came free, weight overbalancing the men.

“Shit, Ianto!” But Ianto didn’t need telling. He jumped out of the way, Jack mirroring him. The pig crashed down to the ground, and a sickening crunching, squelching noise filled the air of the silent warehouse. Jack winced and glanced at Ianto, who was actually hurrying to grab the pig again and haul it to the car. 

“Um, isn’t it sort of ruined, now? More of a paste then a corpse?”

Ianto shook his head, looking up from his position bent over the pig. “All the better, this way. Makes it tougher for Owen to identify. Now, I could use some help getting this to the boot.”

Jack grinned as he bent down and gripped the pig’s haunches, lifting it into the air with Ianto. The corpse swung almost gracefully between them as they walked. “Guess you need some _assistance_ , huh?”

Ianto rolled his eyes, but Jack could see the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “No need to get cheeky, sir.”

With a mighty swing, the two men tossed the corpse into the boot. Jack leaned against the back of the SUV, grinning madly at Ianto. “Cheeky, huh? Wouldn’t mind getting a little cheeky right now…” Jack leaned into Ianto, but was disappointed when he pulled away, yanking the SUV door down and slamming it shut. Jack frowned as he watched Ianto walk around to the driver’s side. That was the second time today that Ianto had pulled away from him. 

“Jack? You coming? We need to mutilate this before it starts to rot.”

With a grin firmly plastered on his face, Jack hopped into the passenger side and shut the door. He could worry about Ianto’s moods later: now, they had a pig to mutilate.

**

Jack wiped sweat from his forehead, then immediately regretted it. Ugk, pig guts. He was going to take a long, long shower as soon as this was over. Preferably with Ianto, but with the way his moods were swinging right now, Jack wasn’t sure what he was up for. Like dating a woman. Not that they were dating or anything. Well, they were, sort of. Could you call it dating if you had never been on a date? Did what they did count as dates?

“Jack, could you pass me the bone saw?”

Jack looked around the make-shift autopsy room they had set up in the vaults. Bone saw, bone saw…ah. Jack picked up the bone saw and passed it over to Ianto. They were both sweating and disgusting, but Jack personally liked the look on Ianto. Pig guts in his hair, sweat plastering it to his forehead. He had his sleeves rolled up and waistcoat unbuttoned. It took a great deal of personal restraint for Jack to stay where he was, rather than jumping Ianto right there and having him shag him into the dirty floor. 

“Jack? Jack?” Jack started, glancing over at Ianto. He was looking at him curiously.

“Oh, sorry. Distracted.”

Ianto’s self-satisfied smirk indicated to Jack that he knew _exactly_ what was distracting him.

“Well, the faster we get this done, the faster we can have a shower.” Jack’s grin widened as Ianto leered deliciously at him. Oh, his filthy Welshman. “In the interim, can you please pass me the mallet?” 

Jack passed the mallet over to Ianto and watched as he began to pound the sides of the corpse into a slightly more human shape, giving it a bit of a waist and space where legs might have gone. He set the mallet down, wiping sweat from the back of his neck with a handkerchief. Jack adored the fact that Ianto kept a handkerchief, thought he could personally think of much better ways to remove sweat from the back of Ianto’s neck. 

Ianto looked up and over at Jack. “Ready with the fire extinguisher?”

Cheekily, Jack held up the extinguisher. “Normally I wouldn’t be so eager to put out fires…”

“Just be ready.” Ianto shot Jack a gentle little smile, and Jack saluted him back. Jack watched as Ianto hefted a flamethrower and pointed it at the pig corpse. After bracing himself carefully, Ianto opened the valve and flicked the trigger, spraying the pig with a stream of flames. The pig was quickly engulfed, and Ianto shut off the flamethrower, watching the fire burn for a short while. “Ready?”

The handkerchief was now covering Ianto’s mouth and nose, shielding him from the acrid smell of burning flesh. Jack thought it smelled a bit like a barbeque, personally.

Ianto gave the signal, waving at Jack. He sprang into action, dousing the pig corpse in white foam from the fire extinguisher. When the fire was safely out, Jack dipped his finger in the flame retardant and wiped it on the tip of Ianto’s nose. Ianto scrunched up his face and wiped it away with his handkerchief. “Jack…”

“Mm. Well, I do love to see you covered in white foam.”

Ianto rolled his eyes, but the grin threatening at the corners of his mouth belied his annoyance. Jack turned back to the pig, hands on his hips. “D’you think this was too much work just for a prank?”

For a moment cocked his head, considering. With a grin he turned to Jack and shook his head. “The look on Owen’s face is going to be worth it. Plus,” he leaned forward, invading Jack’s personal space. Jack wouldn’t have him any other way. “I was thinking you might want to place a bet.”

Jack’s trousers suddenly were getting to be a bit tight, and the room too warm. Then again, the latter might have been due to the flaming pig from a minute previous. “A bet?”

Ianto nodded slowly. “On how long it would take Owen to realize that it was a pig, rather than human. What do you say?”

Jack rubbed at his chin, doing his best to appear nonchalant. He saw Ianto’s glance flicker down to his groin, and knew he wasn’t fooling him. “Well, only if we bet our usual.”

Ianto arched any eyebrow. “Of course. I would say…” He considered for a moment, eyes drifting up as he appeared to be calculating something in his head. “Six minutes, until Owen realizes it.”

“Six? That’s a while. Owen’s good: I wouldn’t have hired him otherwise.”

“Care to place your bet?”

Jack pulled Ianto in, hands on his waist. He noticed Ianto’s eyes flick down, though this time it was at his hands dirtying up his belt. Ianto was really too predictable sometimes. “You’re on. Three minutes.”

“Three minutes it is.” With a pleased smirk, Ianto pulled away from Jack and began cleaning up the room: shoving the tools they used into a bag, slinging the flamethrower over his shoulder. Jack stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Ianto, nuzzling at his neck.

“Sir, you’re going to get filthy.”

“Too late.” He couldn’t see Ianto’s face, but he knew he was rolling his eyes at the double entendre. “Come on, let’s shower up.”

“Let me just clean these up first.” Ianto turned in Jack’s embrace to face him, shrugging the bag and flamethrower into a more comfortable position. “Ten minutes. Then shower.”

“Can I time you?”

Ianto nodded at himself. “Front waistcoat pocket. No,” Ianto jerked his head sideways as Jack reached for the right pocket, “left.”

Jack pulled out the stopwatch and clicked it. Practically Pavlovian, the way Ianto’s eyes went wide and breath quickened at the sound. Not that Jack’s body wasn’t having the same sort of response. “Ten minutes…” Ianto turned on his heel and hurried out of the room, leaving Jack with a mutilated and burnt pig. Well, at least he was going to get shower sex. Not the worst day he’d ever had; not by a long shot.

**

Jack wrapped his arm around Ianto, pulling him closer to him. They were downstairs in his bunk, freshly showered and freshly shagged. Twice. Jack allowed himself a self-satisfied smirk. 

As Jack threaded his fingers in Ianto’s hair, other hand ghosting up and down his arm, he frowned. All those little moments from earlier in the day came back to him: by the coffee machine, outside the SUV…each times when Ianto had shrugged him off, pulled away from him. But he certainly wasn’t shirking Jack’s touch now. What was the difference?

“What was with you today?”

“Sir?” Ianto’s voice was muffled, bordering on sleepy. Jack grinned and kissed the top of his head.

“Pulling away from me at the coffee machine. Outside the SUV, too.” That woke Ianto up from his post-coital stupor. He stiffened in Jack’s arms for a moment, before rolling away. He didn’t get very far on the camp bed, but the intent was clear. Jack shifted to his side and propped his head up on a crooked elbow. “Ianto?”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about, sir.”

“’Course you do. Hey,” Jack reached out a hand, tugging gently at Ianto’s shoulder. Reluctantly, Ianto let himself be pulled over, until he was facing Jack. His eyes were hooded and downcast, refusing to look up. “Did I do something wrong? I’m still getting used to this whole 21st century dating…thing. You gotta tell me if I screw up, or I won’t know.” Jack spoke with a smile on his face, but he knew the seriousness of his words was getting through.

“It’s just…”

“Yeah?”

“The…the team.” Ianto’s eyes flicked up for a second, then dropped back down.

“The team? But, don’t they sorta know, already? Or suspect?” Jack and Ianto had been fooling around since the beginning, and Jack wasn’t sure exactly how long any individual member of the team had known about them. But he was pretty sure that Owen and Tosh suspected. Gwen might not have caught on yet, but she would eventually. “Even if they don’t, does it matter?”

“It’s not that.” Ianto hesitated. Jack tilted his head down, trying to see into Ianto’s eyes. He couldn’t imagine what it was that was bothering Ianto so much. If everyone knew they were shagging, what was the big deal if he touched him in front of them? Not like it’d be weird to see Gwen and Rhys…well, that might be a bit off-putting, but not unexpected. And certainly not something to make Jack keep his hands to himself.

“Then what is it then? Ianto, out with it.”

Ianto finally met Jack’s eyes for a long moment. _Oh_. They were filled with vulnerability, nervousness…uncertainty. “It’s just…Owen thinks I want to shag you. Which, of course, I do.” Jack nodded, feeling like pointing out their equal states of nudity would be a bit redundant at the moment. “But, he thinks…he thinks I’m like, a rent-boy for you. Not that that’s a bad thing, or anything. But, you know. We’ve been together, I mean, I’m not looking for exclusivity, unless, I don’t mean to say…” Ianto sighed, and Jack’s lips quirked at the sight. One of the many expression Jack loved to see on Ianto’s face was frustration. Not because he liked Ianto frustrated: he just looked so damn cute. “This is coming out all wrong.”

“A bit wibbly-wobbly.” Ianto raised an eyebrow. Jack waved a hand in dismissal, letting it come to rest on Ianto’s hip. “Never mind. Keep trying.”

Ianto took a breath. “It wouldn’t be a surprise to the team if they knew we were shagging. But it’s not like they see it, see _us_. I’d rather keep it that way.”

“Professional atmosphere? Ianto, we’re Torchwood. Normal workplace etiquette doesn’t apply.”

“More like possessiveness.” Ianto’s whole face turned red, from the tips of his ears to the hollow of his throat. Jack grinned broadly. “Don’t want them to see. I’d rather…keep ourselves to ourselves.”

“Why Ianto Jones…” Jack wrapped his arm tighter around him, pulling the blushing Welshman in close. “I think that just might be the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard.”

Ianto huffed, looking equal parts uncomfortable, embarrassed, and pleased with himself. “Must not hear very many romantic things, if this ranks.”

“Ianto?”

“Yes, sir?”

“Shut up and kiss me.”

Ianto obliged, grinning so widely that it almost ruined the kiss. Jack wouldn’t have Ianto any other way.

“So…” Jack pulled Ianto into his chest, listening as the younger man breathed in deep. He loved listening to Ianto smell him, though he’d never say it aloud: another one of those thoughts that could be construed as creepy. “You gonna make sure the CCTV is recording in the autopsy room tomorrow?”

“Oh, definitely.” Ianto’s voice began to sound thick with sleep again. “Gotta…” a yawn broke through, “save it for the Christmas video. Hub’s top 10 of 2007.” Jack chuckled, planting one last kiss on Ianto’s head, before he felt him fall asleep. 


	3. Handjob

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The evolution of the hand-holding aspect of Jack and Ianto’s relationship.

The first time Jack held his hand, Ianto was so surprised he twitched violently and pulled away. They were at dinner together, and Jack had innocently covered Ianto’s hand with his own on the table. Ianto hadn’t meant to, and he wasn’t embarrassed by the display of affection: he had been waiting for such an affirmation of Jack’s feelings. And when it finally happened, he pulled away.

            Immediately he regretted it – the quizzical, somewhat disappointed look on Jack’s face was heartbreaking and humiliating at the same time. If he could have, Ianto would have reached over and grabbed Jack’s hand tight and refused to let go. But after his reaction, the gesture would have seemed empty and meaningless.

Ianto opened his mouth, to offer some sort of explanation, or apology. But Jack had already looked away, eyes hooded and false grin firmly in place. Damn it. There were a lot of things Ianto would redo (big things, enormous mistakes) and pulling away was stupid and trivial…but that little thoughtless movement was at the top of Ianto’s do-over list. Barring the invention of a time machine, Ianto resolved to hold on the next time Jack reached for him. 

**

The second time Jack held his hand, it was only for a moment. They had cornered an unknown, hostile alien in a warehouse. Jack was giving them instructions (“Gwen, Owen, circle around and block off any escape routes in the back. Tosh, you stay here, keep relaying your readings to me. If you need to change positions to get a better reading go ahead, but don’t get yourself in trouble. Ianto, you block this exit here, don’t let it back out the way it came in.”) and was preparing to go in and confront the alien himself. 

As Owen and Gwen dashed off to get into position, Ianto took a tentative step forward. “Jack…” He knew it was stupid, he knew Jack would be fine, no matter what happened. And it made sense for Jack to go in by himself. Ianto just didn’t very much like the idea of Jack dying and coming back alone, afraid, without him there to hold him.

Jack turned to him, and upon seeing the worry written clearly across his face, smiled cockily. “I’ll be fine. Just make sure you’re safe.” That was when Jack reached out and squeezed his hand reassuringly. Then he was gone, dashing into the warehouse to save the world in that incorrigible way only Jack Harkness could. Ianto noted grimly to himself that he hadn’t squeezed back. But at least he hadn’t pulled away.

**

It wasn’t until the third handholding attempt on Jack’s part that Ianto finally got it right. They were lying in Jack’s bunk, sweaty and sated after some abso-bloody-lutely _fantastic_ sex. Then again, when was sex with Jack _not_ amazing? 

Ianto was lying on his side, chest pressed up against Jack on the small bunk under Jack’s office. He had one arm and one leg draped over Jack, and was just starting to drift off to after-sex sleep. Then Jack’s hand started fumbling around until it settled on Ianto’s. Jack pulled their hands up to his chest and lay there, gripping tightly. Maybe it was post-coital laziness, or maybe it was just that Ianto was getting the hang of holding Jack’s hand after those two false starts, but he just lay there, letting Jack hold his hand and returning the pressure equally. 

Jack’s breathing was slowing, and Ianto cracked open a lazy eye to watch as their entwined hands floated up and down as Jack’s chest moved beneath them. It was…it was a good sight, their hands together like that. Ianto smiled. He felt Jack’s head turn above him, then he was mumbling, “What are you smiling about?”

Ianto shifted further into Jack and groaned happily. “What do I have _not_ to smile about?”

Jack brought Ianto’s hand up to his mouth and kissed it, before letting it go. “Good answer.”

Ianto’s hand, now free from Jack’s, started to trace lazy circles on Jack’s chest. A happy sigh bubbled its way out of Ianto’s chest, and he wondered at Jack’s handholding. It was weird, to obsess over such an innocent gesture. He and Jack had done so many more intimate things, but for some reason handholding seemed more so. Maybe it was that – Ianto glanced at Jack, as if he could read his thoughts – maybe it was the couple-y nature of handholding. Made them seem like…like they were in a relationship. Instead of just sex. 

Jack shifted sideways beneath Ianto, turning toward him. Ianto moved closer and pressed his face into the crook of Jack’s neck, breathing deeply. One of Jack’s arms wrapped around him and held him close; the other reached down between them and grabbed hold of Ianto’s hand. “I hear you thinking. Go to bed.”

“Already in bed.”

Ianto grinned as Jack dragged his captive hand to his mouth and nipped at his fingertips in reproach. “Go to sleep.”

Shifting backwards slightly, toward the wall, Ianto pulled Jack with him, so that they were both secure on the small confines of the bunk. Wouldn’t do to have Jack falling off the edge of the bed in the middle of the night: Ianto would pay for it in the morning. As Jack’s breathing steadied and slowed around him, Ianto felt himself being lulled to sleep by it.

**

The fourth time Jack held his hand was the first time the thought of timing it entered Ianto’s head. He was in the Archives, sorting through the files from 1973. For some reason, for one year only, the entire filing system changed to the most elaborate, and least useful, system imaginable. To not have the material organized at all would be far easier than the system in place for that year: at least the files would probably be together in a stack. But this…Ianto ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. This was madness.

Jack had come up behind him then, in the midst of all that frustration. Ianto had heard his footsteps, but chose to ignore him. He was always a distraction, and Ianto didn’t need one right now. But then Jack had stopped behind him and slipped his hand into Ianto’s. The cool face of the stopwatch pressed into Ianto’s palm as Jack handed it to him. They stood there like that for a moment: holding hands, stopwatch clutched between both of theirs. 

            “Hey, Ianto…” Giving in, Ianto titled his head slightly to the side. Jack took that as an invitation to start kissing his neck, and leaned in, free hand circling around Ianto’s waist. “Do you want to take a break? Play with the stopwatch?” 

“Mm…” Ianto’s eyes slipped closed, and he allowed himself a moment to enjoy the sensation of Jack’s lips pressing light kisses to the side of his neck, and hand still holding his. That’s when it occurred to Ianto to start timing Jack’s handholding. It was silly, and maybe a bit romantic – oh, Jack’s tongue had slipped out between his lips and teeth grazed over a spot that Ianto _adored_ – but it would be an interesting experiment. Just to see how long Jack would hold his hand.

“I was thinking…” Jack’s left hand was starting to wander from its position on Ianto’s waist, and was drifting forward, ever-so-slowly… “I have to talk to a UNIT chief this afternoon, via teleconference.” Ianto’s stomach fluttered a little as Jack’s fingers nimbly started to undo his belt. “We could time him. See how long he can speak without us saying a word?” Their hands were still entwined, and Ianto didn’t want to extract his from Jack’s. But he _really_ need to kiss Jack properly, now.

Ianto turned around, arching an eyebrow. “Sounds like a terrible idea. They can drone on forever.”

Jack grinned as Ianto pushed him backwards, toward a CCTV blind spot. Not that Ianto knew about those things, or had them carefully cataloged in his mind. “Oh, not _forever_. What do you say?”

“How long do we have before the teleconference?”

“Couple of hours.”

Ianto pushed Jack to the ground and started removing his braces. “Plenty of time, then?” 

**

Ianto had lost track of how many times Jack had held his hand, and even how many times he had timed it, when Jack found him out.

They were at Ianto’s flat, about a month after Owen and Tosh had…after John Hart and Grey had happened to Torchwood. The mood was still somber. Ianto had made Jack’s favorite dinner (filet mignon, with a side of risotto and sweet peppers) and now they were sitting on the couch, watching a late-night classic movie channel. Approximately ten minutes ago Jack had reached over and taken Ianto’s hand in his. Out of habit Ianto had started timing it, pressing the stopwatch in his pocket surreptitiously. 

Jack shifted and stretched, removing his hand from Ianto’s. As he moved to press down on the stopwatch in his pocket, Jack wrapped an arm around his shoulders. It was because of where Jack’s hand was that he noticed the movement of Ianto’s shoulder as his hand slipped into his pocket. “What are you doing?”

Ianto blushed and tried to pull away, but Jack held him fast. His hand slipped down into Ianto’s pocket and pulled out the stopwatch. Bollocks. A grin spread across Jack’s face as he lifted it. “What, you want to play with…” He stopped. Double bollocks. He was staring intently at the stopwatch, the time on the face reading twelve minutes, fifteen seconds. Vaguely some obsessive part of Ianto’s brain noted that it wasn’t a record, while the rest of his brain was hurriedly trying to think of some sort of excuse.

“I…it was…”

“What were you…” Jack’s eyes narrowed as he thought. At the sudden flash of realization across his face, Ianto snatched the stopwatch back and made to get up. Jack dragged him back down to the couch. “You were timing us holding hands?”

“Jack…” Ianto buried his ever-reddening face in his hands and groaned. This was _too_ embarrassing. It was one thing for him and Jack to time things like masturbating, or sex, or foreplay, or even Owen dissecting that bloody pig, but _handholding_? Jack was going to think he was some kind of sappy woman, or worse, that he was in _love_ with Jack.

Ianto peaked out from between his fingers. Jack was…Jack was _laughing_. It had started slow, just as a chuckle low in his chest, but then it was spreading, until Jack had tears streaming down his face. Ianto looked at him cautiously, grin twitching at his own lips. Jack’s laugh had a way of being infectious. “Jack, stop. It’s not…”

Then Ianto was pressed backward on the couch, Jack lying on top of him and kissing him, in between huffs of laughter. “Oh, Ianto, you’re…” Jack paused, nuzzling the side of his head against Ianto’s. Beneath him, Ianto sighed, running a hand up Jack’s back. 

“Sorry, I just…it occurred to me, and then I started keeping track of records, you know…”

Jack shook his head, moving Ianto’s as he did. Then he reached up and turned Ianto’s chin with his fingers. They gazed at each other for a moment, grin on Jack’s face still there, but less mirthful, more…Ianto chose not to think the word he wanted to describe the smile with. He leaned down, and they kissed again, more languorously this time, without Jack’s laughter interrupting them. Jack’s hand came up to run through Ianto’s hair as his tongue pressed into his mouth. When he pulled back, Ianto stretched upward, looking for more contact. Jack’s hand on the side of his face stopped him. “I don’t think…” Jack paused, eyes flickering over Ianto’s face, “I think that’s the first time I’ve laughed since…”

Ianto pulled him down again. The stopwatch fell from Ianto’s hand, and lay forgotten on the floor for the rest of the evening.

**

The last time Jack held Ianto’s hand, Ianto didn’t know it would be the last time. They were in his brother-in-law’s car, heading to the old Torchwood warehouse to hide out. Jack was alive, and Ianto was beside himself with relief that he had Jack back. In full Captain mode, Jack was asking for updates on the situation and barking orders (as best he could in an old pair of Rhys’ sweatpants. Undignified, that). There was a lull in the conversation, and Jack turned his head to look out the window as they sped through the streets of London. Ianto was so _relieved_ – he didn’t realize he was staring at Jack with a stupid grin on his face until Jack turned to look at him.

“You know, I can see your reflection in the window, just _staring_ at me.”

Ianto blushed, but smiled smoothly at Jack. “Thought you enjoyed the admiration of your fans.”

Jack grinned, but it was half-hearted. That was when he reached forward and placed his hand over Ianto’s on the seat. “I told you I’d survive.”

Ianto’s eyes softened, and he turned his hand palm up to entwine his fingers with Jack’s. For a moment the two men just stared at each other, both at a loss for words. Gwen broke the spell. “Yeah, like Ianto said, with no help from us. You best be thanking Ianto for the stunning rescue, Jack.”

Jack’s hand tightened on Ianto’s and he leaned in, a wicked grin on his face. “Thank him? So I’m under orders to thank him?”

“Best not keep me waiting, sir.” Then Jack was covering Ianto in the back seat, kissing him viciously. Ianto laughed into Jack’s mouth and squirmed beneath him, while Rhys was doing his best to reach into the backseat and break them up.

“Oi, guys! Please! Save it for later: Gwen might not mind seeing you two handsome men going at it, but I’d like to keep my sanity intact.”

“Come on, Rhys, you’ve seen worse.” Jack was still lying across Ianto in the backseat. As much as Ianto enjoyed the position, with Jack’s temporary state of distraction he was leaning too much weight onto Ianto, slowly crushing him. 

“Jack…” Ianto managed to croak out. Above him, Jack turned to look down at him. An apologetic grin crossed his face and he shifted, lifting some of his weight off of Ianto.

“Oops. Sorry.” Jack leaned down and kissed him, one last time, before pushing himself upright. “Alright, Rhys, you happy?”

“Like having a bunch of teenagers in the car. How do you manage to get any work done?”

In front of him, Ianto could tell by the back of Gwen’s head that she was grinning. “Oh, they hardly get any work done. I’m the one who really runs Torchwood, they just laze around and screw all day.”

“Oi!” Ianto tapped Gwen on the shoulder.

“Alright, alright. So Ianto manages to escape from Jack every once in a while and get something done. But Jack? He’s just right useless.”

Jack’s hand, still holding on to Ianto’s, squeezed lightly. “Can’t imagine why you two keep me around.”

Ianto squeezed back affectionately. “No clue, sir.”

Jack released Ianto’s hand and leaned forward, looking out the windshield. “Well, it looks you’re stuck with me for a little longer.”

Ianto’s hand still felt warm on the seat as he smiled at the back of Jack’s head. In the front seat, Gwen continued speeding them toward the old Torchwood warehouse. “Well, I suppose I can deal with you for just a _little_ longer,” Ianto conceded. Jack’s smirk was all the answer he needed.


End file.
